


Her Angel Standing By

by datajana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Gift Fic, Fluff, Gen, Guardian Angel Gabriel (Supernatural), Guardian Angels, Humor, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 20:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16290938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datajana/pseuds/datajana
Summary: A birthday gift for a very dear friend of mine.A poet needing help from her guardian angel.Fluff and more fluff.





	Her Angel Standing By

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crimson_Rose_Poet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Rose_Poet/gifts).



> Happiest of Birthdays, Sara! I love you!

[](http://s7.photobucket.com/user/datajana/media/Untitled%20design.png.html)

 

She had been racking her brain for hours on what to write, wanting to choose the perfect words for what her heart and mind wanted to express. The feelings she felt in her soul wanted to pour from her from fingers to the blank page in front of her, but each time she thought she had the perfect phrase and voiced it out loud to test it, the words felt wrong and hollow to her ears.

“Dammit!” she sighed, dropping her pen to the table in frustration. 

“Another one of those days?” she heard a smooth voice ask. She startled in her chair and turned her head towards the sound. She hadn’t heard the door open to her room, and she was the only person who lived in her apartment.

“Wha-” she began, then gasped when she recognized the owner of the voice. Mischievous amber eyes, golden-brown hair, and a sexy smirk adorned the features of the person who had entered her room, and her voice was filled with wonder and disbelief as she breathed, “But you’re…”

He spread his arms wide, then gestured towards himself as he cocked his head. “Oh, but it is,” he said, then made a show of circling his entire body around, smiling when he faced her again. “Surprised?”

She just stared at him, dumbfounded.

He dropped his arms and pressed his lips together. “OK, not the reaction I was going for, but it’s a start I guess,” he shrugged. He watched her thoughtfully for a moment before he strolled towards her and looked down intently into her dazed and bewildered face. “You’re not going crazy, ya know,” he said, winking at her.

She jumped, then squeaked when she realized how close he was to her. He chuckled and hopped up onto her desk, dangling his feet over the edge. “So, we gonna tell each other our names, or am I just gonna call you ‘Squeaker’ and have you gift me with a colorful curse word in return?”

She blanched at the name and his eyes lit up in glee. Glancing down at her hands, she pulled at her fingers. He leaned down and clasped them with one hand, and she was surprised at how warm they were.

“Hey now, no need to be shy. I know! I’ll tell you mine-”

“I know who you are,” she interrupted, then flushed red and ducked her head again. 

He grinned roguishly at her.

“It speaks!” he said. “I know you know who I am, but let’s use it as an icebreaker, hmm?” he teased softly, tilting her head up with the index finger of his other hand. His eyes looked gently into her blue ones, and she couldn't help but nod in agreement at his suggestion.

He smiled warmly and squeezed her fingers. “As we both already know, I am the great Gabriel, the coolest and sexiest of the Archangels,” he said with absolutely no modesty at all. His eyes danced with merriment when he saw the corners of her lips turn up slightly.

When he looked pointedly at her, she swallowed then said, “Sara. M-My name is Sara.” Gabriel raised his eyebrows expectantly, obviously waiting for her to continue. She glanced left, then right, trying to think of something to add before her eyes landed on the objects on her desk. “Umm, I write poetry.”

Gabriel whistled. “A poet! Well, now I can see why you were so frustrated when I arrived earlier,” he said, patting her fingers gently before releasing them. He smirked as she blushed, but didn’t comment on it.

Sara watched him as he jumped down from her desk and circled around her, leaning over her shoulder and staring down at the paper in front of her. “What were you thinking of writing?”

She picked up her pen and held it a few inches above the paper. “I don’t know. I feel something, but I just can’t… I mean…” She stopped, hating the fact that she was having trouble finding the right thing to say.

He laid his hand over hers and pressed it down until the pen touched the paper. “Now, close your eyes and just let your heart write for you, Squeaker.”

She furrowed her brow at the name and turned her head sharply to look at him, bumping her nose against his cheek. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t-”

“It’s OK,” he laughed. “You’re not the first person to hit on me.”

She nearly choked at his words. “I-I… I didn’t… I mean-”

“Sara.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Close your damn eyes and write.”

She sighed and followed his directions. For a long moment nothing happened and she frowned. Just when she was about to give up, she felt his hand press gently between her shoulder blades.

“Just listen to your heart, not your mind,” she heard him whisper in her ear. She then felt his hand splay across her back as he added, “I’ll be right here, standing by.”

She focused inwards, then felt warmth flow from her chest to her arm and down to her hand. Words flowed behind her eyelids, perfect words, words full of light and emotion, and the pen in her hand swept across the paper over and over, and Gabriel’s hand simply clasped over hers, holding it steady as it filled the page.

She continued in this way for several minutes and Gabriel used his grace to place clean sheets of paper under her hand whenever she would reach the end of one. He listened to her even breathing and watched her serene face out of the corner of his eye, delighting in the wonder that was her.

When the poem was complete, she opened her eyes and stared in bafflement at the several sheets of paper in front of her, each one filled with her script. Her eyes fell to her hand and saw that Gabriel’s still covered it, and she began to shake as she felt herself become overwhelmed.

He immediately let her hand go and enfolded her in his arms. “Hey, none of that. Don’t worry. Look at what you did! You’re amazing!” he soothed, and started to rock her gently to calm her. 

She breathed in deeply, marveling at how warm his arms felt wrapped around her, how he made her feel safe and that everything was going to be OK as long as he was there for her.

But she didn’t understand how it could possibly be.

She turned to look at him, puzzled. “Why did you come here? Why help _me?_ ” She lifted a hand to his face, and though he blinked and almost flinched back at first, he allowed her to stroke his cheek with her palm. “Are you actually here? Are you real?”

After a short moment, he placed a hand over hers. “Sometimes us ‘fictional characters’ truly become real for those people who really need us in their hearts,” he said, then rubbed his fingers along her wrists. He smiled gently at her perplexed expression as she tried to sort everything out in her mind.

“You did that because I couldn’t write a poem?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “No, you silly human! You need me for so much more than that.” He looked into her eyes contemplatively. “Let’s put it this way: think of me as your guardian angel, and that poem was the first of many things to come that you’ll get my guidance and help with, huh?”

Sara looked into his face, trying to decide if she believed him or not. 

“But what if…” she trailed off, afraid to say what she really felt.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not going to deny that it could happen or not. But for now,” he tapped her on the nose with his finger, “me guardian, you guardee, OK?”

She sighed, smiling softly, but nodded. “OK.”

He hugged her. “That’s my Squeaker.”

She elbowed him. “Don’t call me that.”

”Why not?”

“I don’t like it.”

”But it’s cute.”

“Don’t care.”

“Squeaker.”

”Ass.”

“Yay! We both have nicknames now!”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Oh ho ho! So now I’m your _bitch?_ What did I tell you about being my guardee?”

“ASS!”

”SQUEAKER!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you TiShea for your help!


End file.
